Submitting To The Devil - The Devil's Snare - Book 2

Chapter Twenty

Niko

By the end of the day, with moonlight guiding us out of the plane and into the awaiting car, Bianca and I have found some common ground to make our journey easier.

I guide her into the back seat, nodding to Dimitri's men as they load a handful of shopping bags into the boot in a quiet manner.

Nothing is said, but I presume that's Dimitri's doing.

His driver takes us through the mainland and over to the docks, where a boat waits for us. Bianca has long since fallen asleep against my shoulder, the skirt of her dress acting as a blanket between us. I'm roasting, but I have no choice but to sit as still as possible as I'm what you call nap-trapped.

I think over the day, the lacklustre ceremony and the complete absence of an after-party. We didn't even get to sit down for the planned meal, nor did we get to the speeches, which, of course, I was looking forward to, considering Mass was the one to be giving us a speech. Honestly, what did he come up with, considering our relationship is fake and hasn't been a thing for long?

When we parked, I climbed out of the car as if I were trying to escape a sleeping baby and reached into my pocket for a cigarette. I light it instantly, leaning against the back panel of the car, intent on smoking while also watching over my wife like a hawk.

"Shall I wake her?" Lionel asks, closing his door softly, almost as if not to wake her whilst he judges my answer. Regarding him, I drag on the smoke, lighting it up to get a fix despite wanting something a lot stronger.

"No, leave her," I shake my head in disagreement.

He falls into relative silence, his breathing the only sound between the burning of tobacco, paper and him.

He checks his watch several times, enlightening me to the fact that he's needed elsewhere. But I take my time smoking, dragging every last pull the stick allows me to. Only then do I turn back to the car to see Bianca already sitting up, staring out at me with doe-like eyes while waiting for instructions.

Smiling genuinely, I open the back door for her.

"Coming, wife?" I ask her with a smirk I can barely contain. There's something about that moniker that floats my cocks boat.

Taking my hand, she nods, scooting over the back seat carefully to rise from the car like a regal queen—my regal queen. With a smile, I tucked her hand on my forearm before leading her down the docked boat, knowing Lionel would bring the bags, as he was probably instructed.

A native waits for us, with a deadpan look of disinterest on their face as we approach them.

"Board," he says in a gruff tone that makes me cautious about doing just that. Despite my discomfort, though, I help Bianca onto the boat and seat her on the bench as I stand over her in a protective stance.

My senses are heightened as I watch Lionel bring the bags aboard and shake the captain's hand, obviously passing over a handsome bill or ten. I check around us whilst in the safety of Dimitri's man, seeing no one but the four of us despite having a feeling that there are more than four eyes on me.

Neither man offered an invitation of introductions, leaving me none the wiser to the captain's name.

It's dead quiet, just as I would expect this time of night on the very outskirts of the country, on a private beach. We're on the border of the mainland and the sea. The ride over to the private island will be about forty minutes, and it's in the dead of night.

Bianca's warm palm wraps around my calf. I'm not sure if she meant to hold onto me or whether it was a subconscious reaction to feeling the weird vibe that comes from one of the two men around us, but her touch seems to ground me, so I can only hope mine grounds her equally.